Ho Ho Hoe
by KinkyEyepatchShit
Summary: Tis the season to be jolly, and the ol' Firedick and zombiefuck duo are no exception. They've really lassoed themselves something...special this time. The real question is: how quick can they get banned from the mall? Place your bets, gentlemen.


Notes: Holy shit this took me awhile to finally finish. Belated X-mas/New Years fic thing with a cheery disposition and inspired by one of the raunchiest dialog-filled shows I know. Enjoy this, cause I dunno what the next thing'll have in store for us.

Disclaimer: These assholes ain't mine, as per usual

T'was the day before Christmas and throughout the shopping mall not a shit was given, nope, not even a bit. The crowds were dashing to and fro, hoping to pawn off their unnecessary shit for gift money [ Dollar General had a great range of cheap key chains and coffee mugs this year, quite winter-y, and Frosty didn't even look drunk this time], and praying for something other than underwear this year. [C'moooonn tacky socks!]

One Heine Rammsteiner couldn't be arsed about any of that. He happened to have been guilted ["Can you _really _live with yourself after letting that lovely little thing down this year when she checks her frilly little stocking and nothing's there~? Ohhhhh how her biiiiig blue eyes will gather with tears~ Dear boy, now is as good a time as any to learn how a woman's heart works. Even with your…condition."] into doing some last minute shopping for a certain Lolicon priest out of the goodness of his shriveled black heart. [Snarling and growling and huffing the entire time, frightening the store clerks when he deemed it necessary, and above all else refusing to act embarrassed while the cashier rang up the tiny, frilly little black dress, _even_ when he barely restrained himself from shooting the snickering bastard in the face when he said it would look good on him]

He was at the very end of the strip of gaudy stores, strolling along with little to no attention focused on his destination, nibbling on a salted pretzel he had caved and bought [his stomach was a worthy adversary, bitching almost as much as a certain ginger assfuck, but whatever, he deserved it for being a good boy] when he heard it.

"Pssssssst, Heine!"

The albino paused, pretzel morsel dipped halfway into the little container of melted cheese and cocked his head to the side in true dog-like fashion, frowning. Who the hell would know him by name and be dumb enough to actually draw attention-

"Oiiiiii, Heine-chaaaannn~ fuckin' fruit cake, over here!"

_Oh. Right_.

Heine abandoned his pretzel to it's cheesy grave, let out a half assed sigh, and turned around to meet his correct deduction. [Too bad his Watson was a gingery shithead, minus the dashing mustache and actual skills]

"It's official," he began. "You're the biggest twat I know. Also, nice leg hair, Saint Dick."

The gangly Santa with his eye so singular and twinkling, his beard so stained with grease, his gingery leg hair revealed courtesy of his rolled up pant legs, and a tell-tale bundle of bubble wrap beneath his shirt to get that classic Santa Tummy, snorted from his throne [a plastic chair painted bright red, the ghetto craftsmanship so superb it brought tears to the beholders eyes] and flipped the albino the bird. "What the fuck do _you_ know about twats? You can't look at one without bustin' out cryin' like a pussy. Pfffft, get it? Pussy! An' yer afraid….yeah….hehehe." He even had the nerve to slap his knee and giggle. "Also, thanks, brah. Takes a real man to grow this much, not that you'd know what that is, what, with your razor cuts and your wax jobs."

Badou Nails, Santa Claus Monday through Thursday from noon to six, tried to dodge the fist to his shoulder, he really did, but the costume reduced his usual expert fleeing skills, and thus he took it like a man.

"Ahhh fuck, that hurt you shithead!" He whimpered, lower lip protruded as far as it would go, teary eyed, boogerfied and raising all kinds of fuss- as if he was expected to do anything less.

"Whose the pussy now," Heine deadpanned, gloating prominent in his voice if the smirk curling at the corners of his mouth gave any indication.

Badou sniffled., rubbing the back of a glove across his snot dampened nose. "Still you. Every time."

"Fuck you," Heine grumbled, gnawing absently on his pretzel, seemingly ignoring Santa's staring Elf and the high as balls reindeer munching on cheetohs in the background.

"Wanna?" Santa inquired as casual as an offer for a drink, digging a grimey finger in his ear to make sure he heard the eager answer he knew he wanted to hear. [as if he could resist _this~ _The bitches struggle to get Santa's belt off every year]

A single snow white eyebrow reached for the sky as he chewed slowly, slowly, annnnd swallow. "_Seriously_." Urge to walk away rising….rising…rising.

Heine was graced with a shrug in answer. "Aw c'mon, didn't ya tell me ya always wanted to fuck in the mall? 'Sides, ya look bored. An' I know juuuuus' the thing to clear that right up." Badou made a few crotch thrusts and wiggled his brows beneath the snow white wig, tongue raking across his yellowed teeth.

Correction: urge to walk away _after punching a fuckwitted firedick in his good eye _rising.

"As I recall, that was _you_," Heine hissed, upper lip curled dangerously like the muzzle of a dog right before it goes for some fucktards throat. Or small, vulnerable children. "Why the fuck did I even bother…kinky motherfucker."

He turned on his heel, ready to march off with that angry swagger of his ass that made Badou snerk [when he wasn't on the receiving end of it, which wasn't often, and when he was walking _away_, ensuring zero danger for his crotch], when boney fingers encircled his wrist, the scent of smoke overwhelming his nostrils and the padded belly of Santa pressing against his side, equally annoying and comforting. Not that he'd admit that.

Badou rolled his eye and huffed, clearly not impressed with the temper tantrum. [What are you, seven? This jolly ol' Saint Nick ain't no pedo, goddammit…] "I ain't even that kinky. If _I_ recall correctly, ya fuckin' snowflake, a certain _someone_ was in to that kinky eye patch bullshit."

Before Heine could fire back with a scathing retort or a curb stomp to the face, Badou had addressed his temporary-co workers. "Hey fuckers, 'm takin' this ass- er, I mean lunch. Break. Yeah. Mrs. Claus an' I need to _talk." _Air quotes included, that last part seemingly hush hush, but he had forgotten the sharp supernatural crack baby hearing of his partners and received a titty twister for his troubles.

The Elf shot him a disapproving, and perhaps envious look. "Hey man, whatever tail you're gonna chase isn't my business, just make sure you get back before Manager Pisspants starts patrolling around. If that asshat isn't in there rubbing one out he's out here breathing down our necks….jesus," he muttered sulkily, adjusting the pointed ears hanging off the hat so big it was swallowing his head.

But Badou was already out of hearing range, dragging and poking the disgruntled albino along, tripping twice over his own feet [they were ordinary rubber rain boots, you see, if it was good enough for the sewers, it was good enough for those little shi- er, darlings~] before turning the corner and disappearing from his co-workers sight.

"What a dilhole." The Elf stated. He looked to the Reindeer for confirmation, but the poor bastard was half asleep amongst a comfy pile of unplugged Christmas lights, empty bags of cheetos surrounding his person.

"Ugh, I don't get paid enough for this crap…."

_Meanwhile, thousands of miles away but actually just three stores down. _

"And so the albino dickweed hopped on Santa's cock, all bright eyed and button nosed, squealing ho ho-" Badou's cheerful monolog was sadly cut short via a sharp upper cut, sending him reeling and shrieking into the soda machine that was just sitting dutifully in the corner minding its own business.

"You son of a cock!" Badou howled, hand pressed to his stinging jaw, eye squinted at half mast but still glaring menacingly at his partner. "What the fuck was that for? I was jus' trynna tell a story, jeeeeeeez!"

"A shitty fictional one," Heine stated, folding his arms over his chest and cocking an eyebrow. "Stick to your day job- _oh wait_. Maybe if you went out on the street corner a little more often and sucked some cock instead of sucking on those stupid smokes of yours you wouldn't get your dumb ass into so much trouble."

Oh that was _it. _Heine could insult his intelligence, his hygiene, his dick, and his skill, but fuck no would he bring the tobacco into this. Plan half assedly formed in his mind, Badou lunged for his counterpart, reversing their positions and pinning him to the soda machine. He cackled triumphantly and sneered, "Yer on my naughty list, shithead. Get ready for yer coal."

Heine snorted, the corners of his lips twitching in the great effort his muscles took to grin creepily. "Is it your dick? Though it ain't black an' fat like the rumors say."

Badou smirked in return. "Yeah it's m- …._hey. You motherfucker," he hissed, snarling when all his angry squawking brought was a snicker from the albino. He pressed a denim clad knee between Heine's legs and raised the captured wrists above the tow-headed bastard, leaning in so close their noses touched. [and Heine could have reared back and bitten his off, but technicalities, eh] _

"_I'll show you my candy cane if yer a real good boy, though I dun think that's gonna happen," he murmured, eyelids at half-mast. "…..an' who the hell said my dick was black, that ain't even funny." He added sulkily. It was a sensitive subject at best. _

_Heine sighed and did indeed rear forward, nibbling the gingers' pouty bottom lip between his teeth. "You gonna show me that list or cry about it like the little bitch you are?" _

_Badou huffed, faux-ly affronted, but couldn't help the eager grin that split his lips- or tried to in lieu of the mutt that currently had a mouthful. "Ho ho ho? If yer gonna be my reindeer, ya gotta have an ass that glows." _

"_Tch, your pick up lines blow worse than you," Heine deadpanned. "Fuck me, Santa." _

_And so they did. And they lived happily ever after._

_Until the mall cops kicked their sorry asses out of there and banned them from ever entering the store like Heine was so publically entered. [Though not before getting their mug shots: Badou, teary and weepy with blood crusting across his nostrils. Heine: pissed as fuck, no surprise there, muttering, "I barely even touched you, you cunt."] _


End file.
